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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27760717">Devotion</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinSpiceHimbo/pseuds/PumpkinSpiceHimbo'>PumpkinSpiceHimbo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Confessional, Confessional Sex, Creampie, Fantasy Catholicism, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Secret Crush, Sexual Fantasy, Shame, guided masturbation, vague D/s undertones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:00:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,929</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27760717</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinSpiceHimbo/pseuds/PumpkinSpiceHimbo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lorenz Hellman Gloucester finds himself vexed terribly by unbidden desires and seeks absolution in the confessional booth. Unfortunately, the priest he finds there is more interested in his fantasies than his salvation.</p>
<p>Written for #FE3HWanksgiving, prompt Distraction/Focus</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ferdinand von Aegir/Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, Hubert von Vestra/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Hubert von Vestra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>FE3H Wanksgiving Weekend</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Devotion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The evening air was brisk as it whipped across the bridge to the Cathedral, swirling in the chasm below. One would think that such a chill would somehow dull one’s overstimulated senses, but sadly for Lorenz, it only hurried him to his destination, mind racing even faster.</p>
<p>There were blessed few in the Cathedral at this hour, long after any hymns or sermons had ended, only those using the space for quiet piety left. He refused to glance at them as he passed and he hoped rather stiffly that they offered him the same courtesy. He tried so hard to move casually, but he knew he was conspicuous, his heels clicking far too loudly on the polished marble, his gait altered in such a manner that his cheeks burned. He ducked into the confessional as gracefully as he could manage and allowed the carved wooden door to shut behind him.</p>
<p>The confessional was not comfortable by any far stretch of the imagination, and it was not meant to be, but oh, the relief he felt the moment he collapsed against the hard wooden bench. It was far too late at night for there to be someone on the other side to confess to so he allowed a tortured, whining sigh to escape his lips as he slumped against the ornate grate separating the sides.</p>
<p>He needn’t look to confirm it, and yet he still did, if only to shame himself where a priest would not. As he ached, so it was, his cock pressed hard to the fly of his trousers, the proof of his sin. He made another sound, a more petulant one, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the bench on either side of his thighs. He daren’t cross his legs, for fear of friction, for fear of pleasure, for fear of damnation.</p>
<p>“Are you alright, my child?”</p>
<p>The voice was sudden to Lorenz, though he had been quite preoccupied with his pulse drumming in his ears and blood rushing to his cock. He yelped, his carefully manicured nails scraping against the grain of the wood, and the sound bubbled into a flurry of apologies.</p>
<p>“Oh, I apologize, I did not-- well, I assumed-- it was wrong to assume, mind you, but I just… it’s so late--!”</p>
<p>“The Goddess is limitless and exists beyond our notions of time and propriety.” The voice was smooth, soft, light in a way that Lorenz could not quite place. Almost as if whispering. “She is here as you require, as am I. Now, lay bare your sins, child.”</p>
<p>Lorenz swallowed, his eyes falling to the bow of fabric, his aching intensifying under his own gaze.</p>
<p>“Y-yes, of course,” he stammered, a fake, over-practiced smile tugging at his lips instinctively. “Forgive me.”</p>
<p>“In due time,” the voice assured. “If you are honest with yourself, and with the Goddess, you can find her mercy.”</p>
<p>There was something about the voice that made his hair stand on end, a soft curl to the words that pricked his skin and turned it to gooseflesh. He felt the urge to whine again, but caught himself, trying ever so hard to prevent his desperation from showing through.</p>
<p>What were the words again?</p>
<p>Another sin to confess, he supposed.</p>
<p>“Forgive me, Mother, for I have sinned,” he began, hoping the rest would flow easily from him. It did not, sadly, and his shame grew as the silent stretched. The pressure to speak overwhelmed him as he heard a shift on the other side of the grate. “It has been far, far too long since my last confession!”</p>
<p>“You are forgiven,” the voice interrupted, though not particularly kindly. It was curt, abrupt, and somehow arousing, if Lorenz’ cock was to be believed. It did nothing to soothe him, in any case, and he found himself even more worked up.</p>
<p>“I cannot be forgiven so easily,” he argued plaintively. “You see, I have committed a terrible sin. I am monstrous, truly below the beasts and fell creatures, and I deserve to be smited accordingly for my transgressions.”</p>
<p>“Is it blasphemy, then?” the priest asked, his tone lilting slightly, almost a tease.</p>
<p>“I… it may be, but that decision I leave to you, I suppose.” The silence between them made Lorenz uncomfortable again, so he continued, “...more to the point, I… I am to find a suitable spouse during my time here at the monastery and I have spent much time weighing the virtues of my potential mates, but that scrutiny has led me astray. I am a slave to my basest thoughts, I have been found lusting. Often. Frequently, even.”</p>
<p>“And are you lusting now?”</p>
<p>Lorenz flinched as if he had been struck and his cock twitched as if to answer for him.</p>
<p>“Yes, Father.”</p>
<p>The sound started softly, almost a snicker, slowly building until it was a brazen cackle, one that both shamed and enraged Lorenz. To be so mocked by a man of the cloth, and to be found so pitiable. The emotions bubbled inside him, some blood spared still for his indignant blush.</p>
<p>“Father, do you mock my pain?” he managed, trying to keep his voice steady.</p>
<p>“Is it not selfish to consider your pain when confessing your transgressions? And what of the Goddess’ pain? Do you put your needs above hers?”</p>
<p>“No!” Lorenz answered immediately, a wave of guilt and shame washing away his self-righteousness. “No, of course not, that is precisely why I am confessing. I have done her, and the object of my obsessions, a grave injury that I can in no way apologize for.”</p>
<p>“If there is no apology that you feel she would accept, why do you find yourself here?”</p>
<p>That surely was a contradiction, he supposed. He swallowed thickly, considering it, trying to find the proper words. No, he knew the proper words, how to appease, but the Goddess could surely see through such things if it was not truly what he meant. He needed to find where his people-pleasing ended and his true feelings began.</p>
<p>“To keep me from further depravity,” he finally allowed, eyeing the dark spots that were finally soaking through the fabric, further darkening the black. “To… to prevent my idle hands from ushering me further into it.”</p>
<p>“To keep you from masturbating, you mean.”</p>
<p>It was so plain and so blunt, such a slap, and yet it made his ache all the worse. Why? Why was he like this? He almost felt he could cry in frustration, from how disappointed he was in himself, both for his lust and his inability to sate it.</p>
<p>“Yes, Father,” he replied weakly, crumpling on himself slightly.</p>
<p>And again, that laugh, mocking him, and his cock twitching at the sound, mocking him twice over.</p>
<p>“You waste my time with this frivolity,” the priest said after a moment, his voice all but contemptuous. “Do you think the Goddess will abandon you if you spill yourself alone?”</p>
<p>“Y-yes, Father,” Lorenz mumbled, bewildered but too ashamed to argue. “Of course.”</p>
<p>“So confront your obsession and spill yourself more fruitfully.”</p>
<p>“I cannot!” It was impossible for him to hide his frustration, or his desperation, anymore. He nearly stamped his foot, nearly cried, ashamed and humiliated and absolutely tortured by it all. “I cannot confront them and it would not be fruitful!”</p>
<p>There was no sound from beyond the grate for a few moments, the priest seeming to hold his breath. It was unbecoming of him to show so plainly his disgust for his pitiable flock. He should have more grace, more decorum, more… more… godliness!</p>
<p>“So is it not a noble you fancy?” he finally hissed, the sound of a sneer tainting his words.</p>
<p>“Hardly!” Lorenz scoffed, indignant and defensive. “Quite the opposite! It is I who falls flat in the match!”</p>
<p>“Surely not, son of Gloucester.”</p>
<p>His breath hitched, the wind knocked from him in five simple words. The confessional was supposed to be anonymous, entirely private, a place for him to speak to the Goddess through her proxy and learn the path to cleanse himself of his innately sinful actions. It was a terrible breach of trust and of protocol to be named as such, even if the priest did recognize him. Even so, the way he pronounced his title, so peculiar and stiff, oh, how his heart raced!</p>
<p>“Do not speak my name,” he whispered, his voice thin and cracked.</p>
<p>“Then offer me another,” the priest shot back, and Lorenz could hear the cruelty in his smile. “The name of the man you have pointlessly fallen for. Or shall I guess?”</p>
<p>“No!” Lorenz said quickly, his hand touching the grate as if he could be seen, as if it would aid his pleas. “Father, I cannot reveal such a thing, I cannot endanger him for the sake of my folly.”</p>
<p>“Why are you here, my child…” the priest purred. “...if not to confess all and lay yourself bare.”</p>
<p>It was the truth, but he felt no peace from each admission. It was rather like an interrogation, and Lorenz had the distinct feeling that his secrets were not safe with the judgmental man opposite him. In fact, he was having a hard time convincing himself that he was a priest at all, but the very notion that someone would masquerade as such made his stomach churn. It was a violation of all that was sacred, and dangerous for the one so disguised. And to what end? For gossip? Blackmail? He could hardly hear the priest for how his pulse drummed in his ears.</p>
<p>“She will wait to hear your confession another day,” he soothed, his voice gentle once more, pleasant, placid. “Once your strength of character will allow for your spiritual growth. Now, if you will excuse yourself, there are others more devoted waiting, and I will hear them before midnight.”</p>
<p>“No,” Lorenz repeated, though more softly this time, almost defeated. Perhaps it was paranoia getting the better of him, the quiet anxiety to be highly regarded at all costs. “Please, forgive me, Father. It has been too long since my last confession. I forget myself in its absence.”</p>
<p>“Then speak, child, and spill yourself before me.”</p>
<p>He very nearly forgot about his cock in all of his strife, but it throbbed at the very suggestion, eager to encourage him to follow the priest’s demand. He was hot, far too hot, stifled within the confines of the confessional. His throat was so dry, painfully dry, and his breath too shallow to sustain him.</p>
<p>“It is a man,” he found himself mumbling thinly. “A beautiful, wondrous man who has bewitched me.”</p>
<p>“Ah, yes…” the priest reassured. “That’s a good boy.”</p>
<p>A chill licked up his spine, setting all of Lorenz’ hair on end. He exhaled heavily, trying to steady himself before continuing to speak.</p>
<p>“I… would like to consider him a friend, perhaps… though he is surely my better in every way. He is polished, and passionate, and humours me far more than he should, far more than anyone else would…”</p>
<p>“Notoriously an acquired taste, son of Gloucester,” the priest agreed, though without malice.</p>
<p>“His palate is immaculate,” Lorenz breathed, his hand resting upon his breast, his back straightening as if he was seated for tea in the courtyard, on display for all who might see him. His lashes fluttered shut, his mind painting out the tea pot, the delicate sandwiches on their tiered tray, his dream-lover’s delicate hand tracing along the rim of his cup. The heel of his hand pressed firmly down against his cock, shielding it from his fantasy, save the gasp and hum he could not repress. The bench creaked beyond the grate, but he was no longer so concerned.</p>
<p>“We take tea together,” he continued. “I watch his mouth, even though I know it’s rude to not hold his gaze properly. When he speaks, when he smiles, when he sips his tea, I cannot help but become transfixed. Warmed by his cup, slightly wet after each draught…”</p>
<p>“You imagine all of the things you might do to those lips of his, don’t you…”</p>
<p>“I…” Lorenz could feel his cock twitch, a shiver winding its way through him as the images came unbidden into his mind. Of leaning across the table, of tasting the sweet fruit from his tea as they kissed…</p>
<p>“Tell me, dear boy,” the priest entreated, then corrected: “Lorenz.”</p>
<p>He pressed harder against his cock with a whine at the sound of his name, uttered so softly, so effortlessly sensual. It clashed with his fantasy, yet urged it on, a horribly intoxicating blend of reality and daydream surrounding him.</p>
<p>“He listens so patiently as I tell him of my latest misadventures, detailing each reason why my potential mate failed to meet my standards, never revealing him to be the golden standard by which I judge them. They pale beside him, sunflowers compared to the sun itself, so radiant and warm, and I, the moon, a mere and meager reflection of his light.”</p>
<p>“He inspires you to poetry,” the priest observed with a slight chuckle.</p>
<p>“He could inspire me to fly,” Lorenz sighed, and his fingers pressed against the fabric, stroking gently along his length.</p>
<p>“Go on, Lorenz,” the priest encouraged. “Tell me more of your fruitless love.”</p>
<p>“I wish that we were free of these walls, that we could ride through the countryside and find somewhere to hide for an afternoon. I would pack us a splendid picnic, and I would find us a lovely willow to sit beneath, perhaps by a brook so that our conversation would not be overheard.”</p>
<p>“Are you not hiding?” the priest interrupted.</p>
<p>“But if we were happened upon, perhaps…” Lorenz explained, his brow furrowing, stomach twisting in imagined anxiety.</p>
<p>“But you won’t be,” the priest corrected, guiding him back into the fantasy, pushing him deeper within it. “It is the spring and the commonfolk are quite busy with their planting, and cleaning, and other such things beyond your care.”</p>
<p>“We… should care for them and what they do,” Lorenz said hesitantly. “He is quite passionate about that, in fact. If he saw them toiling, he would surely wish to join them, to immerse himself completely within their lives, if only for a day, if only to learn their pleasures and plights.”</p>
<p>“You would abstain, watching from the split-rail fence. He would pull off his jacket and his jabot, working in his shirt with his trousers rolled to his knees.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Lorenz breathed, and his fingers pressed more firmly to his cock, stroking it fully through the fabric. “He would sweat beside them, until his face burned red and he panted from the effort. He would laugh it off as I begged him to rejoin me, taking up the canteen I brought and drinking deeply from it. As he turns away, my lips press where his had been, and my heart aches with how I adore him.”</p>
<p>“He shines in the noontime sun, sweat sparkling in its embrace…”</p>
<p>“And his hair is ablaze…!” Lorenz whined, his voice cracking as if he might burst into tears for the beauty he imagined. His hand moved on its own as it always did, doing its sinful work unbidden and unstoppable.</p>
<p>The priest was patient, more patient than he expected as he fought to compose himself. Then softly, he asked, “...what happens as the sun sets?”</p>
<p>“They invite us inside, of course,” Lorenz replied plaintively. “They cannot help but love him. He is enchanting, sweat-soaked and stinking of the day’s labour, talking easily with them where I so often fail. I will have gathered our picnic up, our special treats uneaten, and I will lead our horses to their barn. I will sit politely with him at their table, speaking only when spoken to, taking in all of him that I can.”</p>
<p>“And when the night is dark and the moon hidden behind clouds?”</p>
<p>“They will offer us a bed, and he will accept graciously before I can suggest otherwise. He will sink gratefully into the rough mattress, rolling toward me to tell me of all he learned, of how it has completely changed his life.”</p>
<p>“Is he so simple?”</p>
<p>“He is so complex. He is as noble as he is common, a brilliant mind and a strong body, a man of song and of swordplay. He accepts all and builds himself better with each experience. He sets himself to task and he always excels, each setback is merely an opportunity to more fully understand the world that he is so desperately in love with. He wishes to be the best for all those he will govern, and to serve them so steadfastly, and with such care.”</p>
<p>Oh, Goddess, how he loved him so.</p>
<p>“And when the family is asleep the next room over, what will you do?”</p>
<p>“I…”</p>
<p>“Go on, dear boy… you will…?”</p>
<p>“Watch him as he sleeps… and… gently touch myself as not to disturb him.”</p>
<p>“Oh ho…” the priest murmured, amused. “And I was beginning to think your great sin was chaste infatuation and masturbating in a confession booth.”</p>
<p>Lorenz retracted his hand immediately, eyes snapping open as the fantasy faded around him. He was back in the booth, sure as the priest said, and he was deeply, painfully ashamed of himself.</p>
<p>“Come now, child,” the priest teased. “Did you think I couldn’t interpret how lustily you sighed? The sound of you fondling your trousers?”</p>
<p>“Goddess forgive me,” Lorenz pleaded, hot tears in his eyes, fingers covering his mouth.</p>
<p>“...now, now, Lorenz,” the priest purred, seeming to lean closer to the grate to address him directly. Lorenz dared not look to confirm, staring instead at the dark wood on the door with its gilded Seiros inlay. “I did not say I blamed you. Quite the contrary, I think you should continue. Better you do it here, where you may find immediate absolution, and save yourself a return trip tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“I cannot,” Lorenz whispered from behind his hand.</p>
<p>The priest listened for a moment, then sat back.</p>
<p>“He does not fall asleep, and you do not watch him sleep. Rather, his excitement bubbles over, and you are captivated, as always. He presses his forehead to yours, thanking you for giving him this opportunity, and he speaks how you both will rule your respective lands, better than any before you.”</p>
<p>Lorenz stayed as he was, allowing the priest’s voice to soothe him though he dare not fall back into fantasy.</p>
<p>“He is so close, and you can smell the sweet wine on his tongue. It is the only payment he would accept beyond the meal, and you both drank deeply from their wooden cups. It has warmed you and brought colour to your cheeks, pale moon, and in your fullness, you glow back at the sun you so envy.”</p>
<p>Lorenz shifted, his cock aching but untouched.</p>
<p>“He loves the night as much as the day, you see, and he basks beside you just as readily. Your noses touch as he whispers, and you long to bridge that last small gap. You are reserved and avoid incriminating yourself, but he is nothing if not eager to experience everything he can. He remembers the picnic you did not eat and he swears to enjoy it for breakfast, back by the brook, beneath the curtain of willow branches, and his promise is sealed with an unthinking kiss.”</p>
<p>Lorenz shivered, and he could not help himself any longer. The kiss was too much not to imagine, and he sagged against the grate, the metal so cool against his burning cheek.</p>
<p>“It is enough for you to trust in, though you are certain he meant it as chastely as you fancy your admiration. Still… you find yourself pressing closer to him, your lips meeting his again, more firmly, lingering to taste the wine once more. It suits the situation more than his fruit-filled tea, his shirt still smelling of the day’s labour. It is the smell of a man, the taste of a man, not the boy you relegate yourself to imagining.”</p>
<p>Lorenz couldn’t help but sigh, and his fingers worked deftly at his fly, unbuttoning it as he floated back into the fantasy.</p>
<p>“He is surprised but ever-eager, as you find so charming, and he kisses you back. His hands are not begloved, calloused from the tools he handled, from the effort he dedicated, and they are rough against your cheek. You imagined them differently, soft and pristine beneath their white cotton, but he spends so much time training that it would be impossible for him to maintain such. He hides them from you, the rough hands of a commoner, for fear that you would reject them. You could never reject him in any small way, and you turn your face to kiss each callous individually, to reassure him of your devotion.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Lorenz said softly, his cock slipping free of the fabric. He shivered as the air met the head, oversensitive and slick. He began to work closer to the base, squeezing and pulling slowly, savouring this scenario.</p>
<p>“You will kiss for what feels like hours, slowly tangling yourselves on the rough mattress, and your cock will be quick to give you away. He will reach for it without hesitation, after all, he has handled his own before, so it cannot be that different. He may not be very good at it, but he will try very hard, and that will mean more to you than any raw prowess ever could. You will smother yourself in his kisses, sighing and moaning against his mouth, careful not to be overheard.”</p>
<p>Just such a sound escaped Lorenz, breathed instead against the grate, a soft and lusty sound, one of finally met desire and relief.</p>
<p>“You will try to warn him as you begin your ascent, embarrassed to come into his palm or against his shirt. You worry about the looks the next morning, about how you would explain it away, and before you can convince him to stop, he dips down and takes you into his mouth, those lips you so cherish pursed around you. You come shamefully fast, and he wastes not a single drop.”</p>
<p>“Ah…” Lorenz gasped, a strong shiver traveling down his spine. He almost wished he had known the fantasy would end so quickly, that perhaps he may have been able to time his orgasm with it for a tiny sliver of realism, of full immersion, though he could scarcely imagine how heavenly his mouth would feel.</p>
<p>“He gazes up at you from the hem of your shirt, grinning in his simple, prideful way, and you have never been more in love with him. You ask if he needs tending, and he hesitates to admit it, despite his eagerness to please you. You sit up and he meets you there, and you kiss him, if only to see how much better he tastes with a trace of you upon his lips. It is positively <i>sinful</i>.”</p>
<p>It was a perfect recreation, truth be told, a fantasy easy to follow along with. Lorenz congratulated himself absently for his apt descriptions, skillful enough that the priest could continue for him unaided. He hummed and sighed pleasantly, his cock twitching at the mention of his sins. He was beyond pretending that these small transgressions did not excite him.</p>
<p>“As he sits up, you slip into his lap, cradled between his strong thighs. Your legs wrap about his waist and you kiss again and again, moving your hips to encourage him. You are relieved and excited to feel his fullness beneath you, though you will struggle to speak your desires out loud. He will not think to do more than frot, so you will reach behind and--”</p>
<p>“I couldn’t… I mustn’t…” Lorenz gasped, though he stroked himself ever harder at the thought.</p>
<p>“You will,” the priest overruled him. “He will slip inside you easily as you sink back into his lap, and you will know in that moment that you were made for him. You fit him like a glove and he fills you completely.”</p>
<p>Lorenz moaned, just conscious enough of the sound to clap a hand over his mouth to stifle any further, though surely he could not escape the priest’s notice.</p>
<p>“It is hard to describe how wonderful it will feel to be joined in such a way, and your hesitations will melt away as you move together. Years of longing, hours of pining that very day, and now your desire is consummated. You will tousle and roll, he will surprise you with your pleasure, and you will ensure his own. You will stiffen again, though you will be too delicate to touch.”</p>
<p>The same was nearly true now, the denial and teasing leaving him almost painful to touch. It was his punishment for such prolonged lust, he reasoned, though he could tell that even now, it would not take much to tip him over the edge.</p>
<p>“He will swell beyond what you have already accepted as you draw him to his end. You will squeeze him greedily, plead with him in urgent whispers to fill you properly, to make you his own. That is all you have ever wanted, and as his warmth spreads within, you will finally feel complete. Untouched, you will throb, and the mess you so sought to contain will stain your shirt.”</p>
<p>As the prophecy foretold, Lorenz came suddenly, long lines of cum arcing up against his chest. He moaned wantonly into his palm, not nearly as muffled as he would have wanted, writhing and bucking in the confines of the booth. He could taste his own sweat on his clammy skin and thought of the kiss he would cry into.</p>
<p>“Even as he leaves you, he remains inside, and satisfaction you have never known will wash over you, You will glow as never before, and you will collapse into your rough bedding exhausted and love-drunk. The embrace you have so longed to feel will encircle you and you will bury your face just above his breast, his lips resting on your sweat-stained brow. You will sleep deeply and dreamlessly, for nothing could compare to your reality and the pleasure it brings.”</p>
<p>Lorenz slowly opened his eyes, waking from this dream, alone on the hard bench, the priest falling silent behind the grate. His heart ached terribly, far worse than it ever had before, and he longed to be held as promised. He stole a glance at the grate, seeing nothing but dark hair and the tall hat that surely matched his robes. There was a brief moment that he nearly asked him to meet outside of the confessional, if only for a minute, if only for one quick squeeze of reassurance.</p>
<p>He swallowed thickly, steadying himself before speaking.</p>
<p>“...and for this… what shall my penance be…?”</p>
<p>The priest chuckled, his hand raising to his mouth in consideration.</p>
<p>“Is the pain inside you not penance enough?”</p>
<p>The pang he felt seemed surely enough, the loneliness growing by the second. He nodded, though he knew the priest would not see, and slowly, carefully tucked himself away again, fastening the fly. His jacket was beyond ruined, he saw, and he made short work of the hooks and eyes that kept it closed. He folded it carefully over his arm, hiding the stains inside until he could steal away to clean them.</p>
<p>“Go now, my son,” the priest commanded. “Defile Ferdinand von Aegir at your leisure.”</p>
<p>Lorenz stared unblinkingly at the grate, in shock and disbelief to hear the name of his heart’s desire spoken so brazenly.</p>
<p>“Y-you know him?” he asked dumbly.</p>
<p>“I know all those within my flock,” the priest answered simply with a chuckle.</p>
<p>“Please… do not reveal me…” Lorenz begged.</p>
<p>“Your secrets are kept between you and the Goddess,” the priest reassured ambiguously. </p>
<p>That did nothing to soothe his anxiety at being exposed, but Lorenz resolved to trust in this enigmatic, unusual clergyman, at least for now. He stole one final glance, trying to commit the vague form to memory so that he might seek him later, talk to him directly and, perhaps, offer a bribe.</p>
<p>“Go now, my son,” the priest dismissed him. “You have done so very well to come to me in your hour of greatest need. I trust you will not stray from the proper path again.”</p>
<p>“Of course, Father,” Lorenz promised, though he was unsure what, exactly, the path was.</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, he opened the confessional, slipping out far more easily than he got in, retreating quickly toward the dormitories. The wind whipped against him as he crossed the bridge, drying the sweat from his skin, and, hopefully, carrying the smell of sex away long enough for him to hide in his room.</p>
<p>In the cathedral, another sinner entered the confessional, the carved wooden door shutting behind him.</p>
<p>“What is it I can do for you, my child?” the priest asked softly.</p>
<p>“Whatever you did for him,” Yuri replied with a laugh. “I was going to ask what held you up for so long but one whiff of this booth and I have a pretty solid hunch.”</p>
<p>The priest laughed, reaching up to remove his tall hat before turning toward the grate.</p>
<p>“Call me a corruptor of the innocent,” he said simply.</p>
<p>“Hey, everyone has their fetish,” Yuri said coyly. “Hubert von Vestra is simply a man like any other.”</p>
<p>“A man with ever more secrets to share,” Hubert teased.</p>
<p>“Then make your confession, dear child, and I will listen carefully.”</p>
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